The Thomas Andrews Affair: Sex On Fire
by Celtic Ceilidh
Summary: Thomas Andrews & OC Titanic stewardess Mimi Monaghan 'come together' in various sexy clinches: a collection of erotic oneshots consisting of alternative chapters, POVs & unused scenes originally written for the main story, 'Titanic: The Thomas Andrews Affair'. Sexual in nature - rated M for a reason. DON'T read if the thought of Mr. Andrews being a naughty shipbuilder offends!
1. Any Time, Any Place

**Author's Note/Background Info: **

I've had requests, both on this site and on tumblr, to write alternative chapters for my main novel_, 'The Thomas Andrews Affair,_' using different POVs. I've also had requests to upload any discarded chapters I have lying around on Wordpad. So I figured, why not? At least someone will read them, rather than having them rotting away unread.

So this will be a collection of unused chapters, alternate takes, deleted scenes, and material that was too sexually detailed for the original T Rated story. All of these oneshots WILL have a sexual theme, hence the necessary M Rating!

I've written this separately to the '_The Thomas Andrews Affair_', but it correlates with it. The 2 main characters remain the same: Mimi Monaghan, the Irish stewardess, and the master shipbuilder, Thomas Andrews (based on Victor Garber, of course). Everything still takes place onboard the _Titanic_, as before.

This scene here, could probably take place between Chapters 5 and 6 of my original story, but could also stand alone as a oneshot without the backstory. Sexual content contained in this chapter!

* * *

_**Any Time, Any Place (alternative chapter)**_

After my shift had ended for the evening, Mr. Andrews insisted on taking me for a late night tour of the deck. I'd reasoned that it was his own awkward way of saying, _'I like you and I want to get to know you better_'. Of course, we'd had sexual relations for the first time together on his desk the night before, so perhaps we were doing this 'getting to know each other' ever so slightly the wrong way around. But the dreaded sherry, with a mix of pent up emotions and surging hormones added for good measure, had been the culprits of our satisfying tryst on the desk in his quarters. This evening had a different feel to it; it was after eleven o'clock at night, when most passengers were tucked up in their beds, and I was feeling rather tired myself after a long and mundane shift. Mr. Andrews, on the other hand, still seemed as bright as a button.

We strolled down the promenade deck together, him with his hands clasped behind his back, and me with mine folded over my bosom. I was clad in my White Star maid uniform, but with no overcoat to keep out the slight chill in the air. Mr. Andrews was dressed in his navy pinstriped suit, waistcoat and wing collar shirt and tie ensemble, still looking as fresh as he'd done during the day. His black leather-bound notebook was firmly wedged under his left arm, and his precious fountain pen was visible from his top blazer pocket. The presence of the notebook and pen hadn't surprised me; it may have been late in the evening, but the man was still looking for improvements to make on his blasted ship. I had to wonder why he was always so preoccupied with Lady _Titanic_; perhaps it was an escape from thinking about his estranged wife and his family. Then again, _Titanic _was the reason why his marriage was in tatters in the first place. For me to think about these things over and over, would certainly prove to be fruitless.

The outer deck itself was dark in places, but well lit in others. It was deserted, and there wasn't a soul around to be seen at that time of night. Mr. Andrews walked me over to a row of davits, where there were several lifeboats situated for emergencies.

''I did ask for an extra row of davits for surplus lifeboats,'' he told me, gesturing to the boats with a nod of his head. ''and they overruled me, because they said the deck would look too cluttered! Bloody White Star Line and their regulations. They were within their rights, I suppose. But I would've preferred more boats!"

I smiled and nodded, trying my best to listen. Having designed this grandiose liner from the keel plates up, he was entitled to a bit of a moan about the things that irritated him. For months I'd heard about Mr. Andrews being quite the fussy perfectionist. Spending more time with him now, I could see that side to him. I did like a man who was a stickler for details and cared passionately about his work. At least Mr. Andrews knew the meaning of hard work!

He unclasped his hands from behind his back, dropped the notebook from under his arm and opened it at the most convenient page. He began to read out his notes, looking up from the book every so often as he did, catching my eye unintentionally. His notes meant nothing to me, being a lowly ship's maid who wasn't particularly clued up on architectural technicalities. I looked down at my feet shyly, realising that while his words meant nothing, his voice was soothing and rather seductive. I could feel a sudden awkwardness in the air, as he caught on that I wasn't listening to his words. He stopped and gently closed his book again.

''I, er, didn't mean to bore you silly, Miss Mimi.''

I looked up from my feet, and I could feel my cheeks radiating warmth as I caught his eye again.

''I'm not bored, Mr. Andrews. And please - it's just _Mimi_.''

He nodded and stepped forward, closer to me.

''Then you must stop calling me 'Mr. Andrews'. I think we've bypassed those formalities after, um...last night.''

There was another moment of awkwardness and a long pause, as he and I stood there on the deck, in front of the row of lifeboats. I couldn't think of what else to say, and clearly neither could he. Sweeping that awkwardness to one side, he opened the notebook again and took his pen out of his top pocket. He poised his hand over the page as if to write, but then he seemed to decide against it. The pen went back in his top pocket and the book was snapped shut.

''I'm...I'm unsure of how to proceed now, if I'm honest,'' he admitted to me, his voice soft and almost whispery. ''I've been trying to distract myself since last night. But as much as I try to stay as your acquaintance, I-I don't think I can,''

Those words were music to my ears, oh my! Months of admiration for this man had culminated in a drunken illicit liasion on his desk the previous evening. But I had wanted more - much more, from him. My heart started to pound.

''Then don't be,'' I encouraged him, a glimmer of hope building in my mind. ''It sounds like your marriage is beyond repair, so why deny yourself the chance to be happy with someone else?''

He shook his head and looked up at the night sky, his eyes watching the stars.

''It's really not that simple, Mimi. _Life_ is never that simple.''

Feeling an overwhelming need to offer him a little comfort, I reached for his free hand and pulled it into mine. My forwardness startled him, and he snatched his hand away quickly and jumped back.

''Mimi, what on earth do you think you're doing?'' he gasped, looking over his shoulders. ''You mustn't be so brazen in public, dear!''

I sighed - the deck was empty and only partially lit. The moonlight cast a gentle, white glow over the lifeboats, where we were standing. There was nobody around to see us. Most people were tucked up in their beds, and others were finishing off their evening activities for the night.

''Thomas, we're alone out here,'' I chuckled, brushing off his unease.

He gave another cautious glance over each of his shoulders, then looked back down at me.

''It's too risky to be seen out in public with you in this way. We must behave accordingly.''

I rolled my eyes. I could understand his anxiety if this had been daytime, but it was late at night and the deck _was_ deserted.

''I'm sorry you feel that way, Thomas, but I have no regrets,'' I told him, firmly standing my ground. I reached my hand out to his again, and much to my surprise, he didn't back away this time. I slipped my fingers through his, and he returned the gesture. It was a breakthrough moment for him, and for us. He rested his notebook and pen on the ledge next to the railing, freeing his other hand. With our fingers still entwined, he snaked his unoccupied hand around my waist and held it against the small of my back. I gasped quietly, and my heart thudded faster and faster.

''This is _not_ the way for us to behave in public,'' he breathed, towering over my slight frame. ''Can you see what you do to me, young lady? It's difficult to continue behaving like a gentleman, when I all want to do is...''

He cleared his throat and didn't finish, perhaps realising just how desperate he sounded.

''Well, maybe I don't _want_ you to behave like a gentleman right now.'' I teased, slipping my fingers out of his and moving my hand up to his chest, over his waistcoat. I moved my fingertips across the buttons of the garment, playfully. And in an unladylike fashion, I lifted my knee into the gap between his legs, slowly brushing the side of my leg down his inner thigh. Mr. Andrews took a sharp breath inwards - he clearly hadn't been expecting such a thing! My legs were, of course, still covered by my dress and my apron. But the mere act of sexual suggestion, to a man who was not one's husband, was quite sinful in those days.

''This is very improper, Mimi,'' he reiterated, but he didn't seem in a rush to stop my behaviour. In fact, he perpetuated my actions by continuing to join in and behaving most improperly himself. He didn't even have the excuse of too much brandy and champagne to fall back on any more. The man was as alcohol-free as I was. No; this was nothing but animalistic, unbridled lust on both our parts.

He shifted my skirt above my knee and skimmed his hand over my thigh, his fingers dangerously close to between my legs. It was my turn to take a sharp breath inwards, and I shuddered at his touch on my bare skin.

''Maybe we should...retire...to my cabin?'' I suggested, knowing it was scandalous to even think such a thing.

He shook his head, still stroking my upper thigh.

''We can't. We'll be seen.''

He had a point, but we'd already risked being seen last night when he'd taken me to his stateroom after the captain's party. I couldn't see why this was so different. But I wasn't going to argue, for now. I had a better idea, and it didn't need the privacy of one's cabin or even the comfort of a nice bed. 'Al fresco' on board the_ Titanic_, was suddenly beginning to seem very appealing. Very naughty, and nothing short of absolutely outrageous.

''Or perhaps we could do unspeakable things out here,'' I purred, lowering my hand and trailing my fingers over the crotch of his pinstriped trousers. He was already very much aroused, which I'd certainly expected him to be. I'd known since the previous night that Thomas Andrews responded very quickly to a scarlet woman's touch...

''You must be out of your mind!" he gasped in response to my suggestion, his breathing quickening as I continued to tease him over his trousers. ''It's not appropriate, as you _well_ know,''

The pros and cons of appropriate versus inappropriate behaviour, didn't really matter to me at that moment. It was exciting, standing there on the deck by the lifeboats, surrounded by little else. I couldn't hide the fact that I was desperate for him to take things further out on the deck, rather than inside the ship.

''Live a little,'' I whispered, making sure I was looking him straight in the eye. ''Time to let go of society's upper class notions, Thomas. At least, for now..."

Much to my surprise, as soon as I said that, he whirled me around and guided me backwards to the ledge close to the railings. We were now sandwiched between two lifeboats, and there was a fifty feet drop down below, sectioned off only by that ledge and the railings. I sat on the ledge, my back and the top of my head propped against the first railing. I pulled Mr. Andrews towards me by his blazer, and wrapped my legs around his waist. He leaned his head in to kiss me, and I reciprocated passionately. He freed my hair from the hairpins that held my unruly curls in place, and ruffled my hair down over my shoulders. Then his hands travelled all over my body, finding their way under my apron and up my skirt.

''This is so wrong,'' he panted, before plunging his mouth over mine and pulling away again to add, ''but I can't help it,''

He began fumbling with the buttons of his trousers, his fingers visibly trembling. His nervous anticipation came across as actually rather endearing, as it had done the night before. I could turn _Titanic'_s master shipbuilder into a quivering wreck; one who broke his social taboos to experience the pleasures of another woman. I was proud of my achievements with him so far. I'd been where only one other female had been, and I could tempt his wilder side more than _she _clearly could.

''Come on, Thomas,'' I flirted, grinning up at him seductively as he stuggled to undo his last trouser button. ''I'm waiting, now. Show me your skillful _techniques. Y_ou obviously have such.._._attention...to _detail._"

He finally popped open the last remaining button, and his trousers dropped a little around his broad thighs.

''I'm still rather out of practise,'' he chuckled. ''Last night was the first time in, oh, I don't know how long. A good while, I should put it that way!"

I grabbed the collar of his blazer and pulled him forward, raising my knees against either side of his waist. My skirt and apron rode up over my thighs, exposing my roll top stockings and my ankle boots. Mr. Andrews' hands wandered higher and higher beneath my skirt, and I felt him tugging my frilly drawers down as far as he could get them. I pulled them off one leg and carelessly discarded them by his feet. I stretched my body across the narrow ledge, my head hanging over the side through the gap in the railings. The chilly wind blew a mass of wild curls into my face; I could just about make out the twinkling of the stars against the night sky, through the thick locks of hair obscuring my vision. I gripped the railing above my head with both hands, as I felt the sensation of Mr. Andrews slowly pushing himself between my thighs and inside me. He hooked his fingers underneath my knees on either side of his waist, and he began to move his hips back and forth. Oh, my word; how wonderful did this feel? He was most gentle at first, and even quiet. Perhaps he was concentrating on getting his rhythm right. Me, on the other hand - I could barely contain myself, and we'd only just begun!

''Thomas,'' I breathed, squirming beneath him. ''I've craved this moment since last night,''

He didn't say anything in return, but I heard him give a quiet chuckle to himself. I turned my face to the side and realised that there was nothing but an eighty feet drop beneath my head; he had me so perliously close to the edge against those railings! But I didn't even care. The dangerous element only added to the excitement of it all. I was then aware of his hips thrusting forward considerably harder, causing my body to jerk on the ledge with every movement.

''Don't worry,'' he reassured me, still gripping the undersides of my knees firmly. ''I won't let you fall over the side,''

Well, thank goodness for that vote of confidence! But he felt so good, I would've done anything for him. Anything, and anywhere. After a moment, he let go of my knees and scooped me up into a sitting position, so that my head was resting against the railing again. He brushed the hair out of my face and looked me deep in the eye as he continued to thrust his hips. My hands gripped his waist tightly.

''Thomas, I want you to say my name when you release yourself,'' I whispered breathlessly. ''Just say it. Say my name...''

Still looking into my eyes, he gave a mischievous smirk and carried on moving his hips. He kissed me again, trailing his lips down my face and my neck, and he licked the delicate skin of my collarbone area. He was still relatively clean shaven, but I could feel a little prickling against my skin, from a day's worth of light stubble across his chin. I arched my back and groaned at the sensation of his tongue tracing over the outlines of my neck; he was quite skillful, for a man who'd supposedly lost his touch! He took my hands from his hips and locked them around the back of his neck, making sure I was holding him closely. He was panting and gasping, and oh my Lord, so was I. I could hear the swish of the waves below as the ship sailed gracefully through the water, and the wind was still blowing those wisps of my hair into my face from behind. This situation was incredibly risque, but also very dreamlike, too. I couldn't quite believe I'd encouraged the usually shy Mr. Andrews to partake in such a thing! But I had done, and it was truly pleasurable in every sense. I didn't need to ask him if he was enjoying our night time relations on the outer deck; his actions and audible gasping noises spoke for themselves. He lifted his head from my neck and gave a wry smile, still panting.

''Ye know, I do believe I _could've_ had another row of davits in here,'' he said, his gaze momentarily flitting to the lifeboat situated close to me. ''Bloody idiots, these White Star managers. Honest to goodness - these things get on my nerves, Mimi!"

I rolled my eyes and shook my head disapprovingly. The silly man couldn't help himself, rambling on about improvements to the ship, even in a moment of passion. Perhaps I shouldn't have expected anything less from a perfectionist whose mind was consumed with his work?

''Never mind about yer bloody davits for now!" I scolded him, raising myself up against his body movements. ''Just think about what _we're_ doing,''

He gave a sheepish look and wiped a drop of sweat from his brow with the back of his sleeve.

''Sorry, dear.''

Oh, my goodness. Just as he'd made his apologies, I could feel a pleasurable warmth swelling between my legs, sneaking up on me rather more quickly than I'd expected it to. I dug my nails into the back of his neck and breathed deeply, as the sensation swept over me and overwhelmed my entire body. It was simply wonderful - my first orgasm with Thomas Andrews. I'd almost forgotten that sensations like these existed; there had been nothing to rival these feelings in years.

''Thomas, I'm - oh, _yes...yes, that's it..._'' I gasped, closing my eyes and lifting my chin high. My nails must've left welts in the back of the poor man's neck.

He followed my lead and began to pick up speed, rocking my body against the railings with every sharp movement into me.

''Mimi,'' he panted into my ear, ''You're beautiful. I'm grateful you've allowed me to do this with you...again...''

His breathing was fast and his brow had furrowed with the obvious build up of pleasure. He closed his eyes, and I was bounced against those railings like there was no tomorrow. He gripped the bar above my head and released himself, which prompted a satisfied grin to spread across my own face.

''Oh God, _Mimi_!''

Then he slowed down to a complete halt, keeping himself in me for a moment or two afterward. We collapsed against each other, catching our breaths respectively. My hair was in my face, his trousers were around his ankles, and somehow my hand was now situated on his bare behind. Puffing and wheezing after pleasuring each other immensely, I managed to lift my head and look him straight in the eye again.

''I don't think we were seen by a single soul out here, Thomas. You were worrying over nothing, you know."

Mr. Andrews slipped out of me and tucked himself back inside his underwear, shyly reaching for the trousers still around his ankles and hauling them up quickly. He chivalrously smoothed my skirt out over my thighs to save my modesty from the nippy wind.

''You may be right, m'dear, but God'll strike me down if we do this again!'' he chuckled, proceeding to button his trousers. Then he reached for his beloved notebook and pen, opened the book at the nearest blank page and removed the pen lid. I stood up, feeling a little bit wobbly on my feet, and picked my drawers up from the floor.

Mr. Andrews averted his eyes as I rearranged myself, and began to scribble something on the page of his notebook.

''That ledge could do with a bit more wood stain,'' he sighed, nodding over to where we'd just had sexual relations. ''Would ye look at that! It's a wee bit worn now, eh?''

I stifled a giggle, and blushed at his implication that our frantic session had led to the fading of the paint on the ledge.

He snapped his book shut, and offered me his arm. His mood was excellent now! He'd certainly cheered up considerably.

''_Shall_ we, dear?''

I nodded, and linked my arm through his.

''Of course, Thomas.''

Smiling broadly, he escorted me back out of the davits and onto the main deck again. Neither of us said a word to the other about what we'd just done, but both of our faces remained rather flushed. I gasped when I saw First Officer William Murdoch suddenly appear out of the darkness, walking towards us.

''Just keep smiling,'' Thomas hissed, through gritted teeth.

''Good evening, William!" I breezed innocently, on behalf of the two of us.

Mr. Murdoch appeared ever so slightly flustered, but tipped his cap politely, regardless.

''Good-good evening, Miss Monaghan, Mr. Andrews!'' he stammered, hurrying past us and seemingly unable to look us in the eyes.

I glanced up at Mr. Andrews and frowned, then looked over my shoulder at Mr. Murdoch behind us. And it suddenly dawned on me why he was behaving so nervously. Of _course - _the cheeky bugger must've seen us at it! Whether he had innocently stumbled across us in the thoes of our passion, or had deliberately watched us in a voyeuristic manner, I didn't know. But it was clear that he'd witnessed our wild antics at the davits. Though I wasn't going to tell Mr. Andrews that. He seemed quite oblivious, and it was probably less trouble for him to stay that way...


	2. A Secret Hand

**Author's Note:** Another risque idea I had, encouraged by a couple of _Thomas Andrews Affair _readers. This scene is completely tongue-in-cheek - NOT to be taken seriously. Unrelated to any particular chapter from the original story, and written just for fun. Mimi and Mr. Andrews get up to more naughty on-deck hijinks...

* * *

**A Secret Hand  
**

It was early evening and my shift was close to finishing for the day. I didn't have much left to do, other than stack away a few piles of bedsheets in the linen cupboard. I'd remembered that it was around this time that Mr. Andrews would be finishing showing guests his tour of the boat deck, so catching up with him was a far more appealing idea than finishing my duties. Yes, how awfully rebellious of me! The Captain and Mr. Ismay would surely hunt me down and give me a stern warning. But, goodness me; Mr. Andrews had such a hold over me and my ability to behave rationally. I'd barely seen him all day, so I just couldn't help it! I abandoned the remaining sheets and made my way outside onto the boat deck, desperately hoping to bump into him. He was the itch that I needed to scratch, so to speak.

And yes; there he was, wearing his long overcoat, loitering around near to the davits as he often did. His notebook was in one hand, his fountain pen in the other, and he was furiously scribbling something down. His tour party had clearly been and gone, and his mood seemed quite decent, as he hummed a little tune to himself. I stood close to him and watched him for a moment or so, a smile playing on my lips. Then I cleared my throat, deliberately, to get his attention. He looked up from his book and seemed surprised that I was there. Silly man.

''Ack, how long have ye been standing there, Mimi?'' he chuckled, putting the lid back on his pen. ''You gave me a fright, so ye did!"

I touched his arm playfully.

''Sorry, Thomas. Awareness of other people is not your strong point."

He smiled and shook his head at my little quip, his eyes fixing on mine as he slipped his pen into his top coat pocket. He closed his notebook with a firm thud, and straightened his shoulders. Oddly enough, he didn't brush my hand away from his arm; unusual for him in public. Was Mr. Andrews allowing me to flirt with him, out on the deck, in the evening - with other passengers still milling around? Goodness, I did believe so! How out of character for a man who'd preferred for us to sneak around, rather than be too open for the gossips to see.

''So, what can I do ye for?'' he asked me, tucking his notebook firmly under his arm.

I sighed, making sure our eyes were still locked. If he was allowing me to be flirtatious with him in public, I was going to make the most of this rare opportunity.

''Oh, nothing in particular,'' was my answer, as I ran my hand down his sleeve and stopped at his fingers. ''I've almost finished my shift, so I thought I'd come and see you. I've - well, I've missed you today,''

He raised an eyebrow and took my hand in his, another action which surprised me. Well well, perhaps someone had abducted the real Mr. Andrews and left an openly affectionate doppelganger in his place?

''How sweet of you, dear,'' he chuckled, his eyebrow still raised.

He traced his thumb over my knuckle, then lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it gently. _Good gracious. _A shiver ran up my spine at the touch of his lips on the back of my hand. I glanced over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching, but it appeared that there were no spectators to worry about. I returned my attention back to Mr. Andrews, sensing that familiar flush spreading over my chest and up my neck.

''What's got into you this evening, Thomas? You're making me blush!"

He took my arms and pulled me in close to him, circling my hands around his waist under his coat. Being the small thing that I was, I was enveloped within that huge overcoat; now I could hardly be seen, apart from my feet and the top of my head. My heart was pounding like mad! I rested my cheek against his chest, over his waistcoat.

''I don't know what it is,'' he sighed, placing an arm protectively around my shoulders. ''I could do with someone to cheer me up, and you're just the ticket. I'm feeling a wee bit low today, Mimi. Things on my mind,''

I pursed my lips and frowned.

''Oh? You seemed quite chipper a minute ago. What's the matter, darling?''

Well, this must've been the first time I'd called him 'darling'. I hadn't even thought about it; it was something that slipped out quite naturally.

''I'd rather not say, if that's all the same to you,'' Mr. Andrews said, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. ''I'm just putting on a front, most of the time. I might look happy-go-lucky on the outside, but on the inside...I'm quite miserable. It's just been one o' these days!''

Hearing his words, I felt an overwhelming need to offer him comfort. I hadn't a clue what was on his mind, of course, but comfort was something I could certainly give to him. I must've been quite mad, but my hands gravitated from being circled around his waist, to down over his bottom. And he winced, giving a little jump, just as I'd expected him to.

''Mimi, what're ye doing?'' he hissed.

I grinned and squeezed his behind, knowing that the cover of his huge overcoat meant that my action couldn't be seen.

''Trying to put a smile back on yer face,'' I teased him, and he winced again. ''Don't worry, the coat hides everything!''

And, goodness me, now he was starting to react in a certain place. An involuntary reaction, of the specifically male variety. I could feel him standing to attention against me, inside his trousers. Well, there was something I hadn't expected from him at that moment! It was just as well he was wearing that large overcoat of his...

He obviously knew that his arousal could be felt pressing against me as we continued our embrace, with me still wrapped up inside his coat.

''Um, I do apologise for this, Mimi,'' he said shyly, shifting position a little. ''Not something I want to happen, out here. Thinking of my argument with Ismay earlier should put paid to it,''

''That won't be necessary,'' I told him, cheekily moving my hand from being perched on his bottom, round to his front area. My fingers toyed with the top of his waistband, and I don't know what possessed me, but I started to undo a couple of his trouser buttons. Yes, looking back on it, it was a most unladylike and inappropriate thing for me to be doing in public like that. Shameless, even! But at the time, I was being deliberately provocative and daring. The cover of his overcoat gave me the confidence I needed to pursue such naughty and unspoken behaviour.

''Mimi!" he hissed at me again, and as I looked up at him to gauge his reaction, I noticed his eyes had widened to the size of saucers. ''You're not doing this. No, you're not doing-''

His voice caught in his throat as my hand quickly ventured inside his trousers and into his underwear. Well, he should've known by now that I was no lady.

''Stop it!" he scolded me as I wrapped my fingers around his arousal, which was still inside his clothing. ''This is absurd, you can't be doing this!"

I slowly began to move my hand up and down, making quite sure that I was subtle enough not to be seen by others. I was a filthy, brazen hussy, and I knew it. Mr. Andrews was the only man who'd ever brought that side out in me. We were quite the lethal combination.

''Nobody knows what I'm doing,'' I reassured him. ''This is our little secret, Thomas...''

To the outside world, I'm sure it appeared that Mr. Andrews was simply giving his lady friend a warm and comforting embrace, from within the confines of his overcoat. Only he and I knew the truth; that I was pleasuring him with my hand in his trousers. I must admit, I loved the sheer naughtiness of it all. He was quickly becoming hot and bothered, but I'm sure he knew he had to keep his composure. He wasn't stopping me, though. He could've removed my hand from where it was, but he didn't. He allowed me to continue. I must've been rather a bad influence on the man!

''You're quite unbelievable, Mimi,'' he murmured, through shorter, gaspier breaths than before.

''I suppose I am,'' I admitted, squeezing and massaging him between my palm and my thumb.

''I can't keep allowing you to do this,'' he whined, tightening his arm around my shoulders to hold me as close to him as possible. His chest rose and fell faster than before and I listened to his heart pounding hard, next to my ear.

''You can stop me at any time,'' I said, still toying with that part of his anatomy.

''I'm not sure if I want to, actually,'' he fired back quickly, his voice soft but more seductive in tone.

That was exactly the answer I'd wanted to hear, and I gave another smile to myself. Bad, _bad_ Mr. Andrews!

Footsteps passed behind me, and I could sense his body tense against me. His fingers gripped my shoulder and I heard a little moan escape from his throat. He was clearly enjoying the riskiness of my actions, as much as I was. I heard another set of footsteps ascending close to us, and Mr. Andrews tensed again. But this time, his body was much more rigid.

''My God, stop! It's Ismay!" he suddenly panicked through gritted teeth.

The blood must've drained from my face, and my wrist came to a halt immediately. But I kept my hand in his trousers, still clasped around his rapidly softening manhood. A familiar aroma of stale cigarette smoke began to fill the air around us. Such a way to kill the mood.

''Ah, Mr. Andrews!" Mr. Ismay boomed from behind me. ''Is everything alright with the young lady, there?''

Mr. Andrews gave an exaggerated chuckle and rubbed my back.

''Yes, Mr. Ismay. She's just a wee bit upset. Personal matters.''

I closed my eyes and began to feign crying noises, sniffing and whining away to myself. I'd hoped I was at least somewhat convincing.

''There there, dear Mimi,'' Mr. Andrews played along, giving my back another rub, ''Ye'll be feeling better soon,"

''Ah, I see. Women's problems.'' Mr. Ismay said, his tone rather patronising. ''In that case, I'll leave you to it. You're needed in the engine room, Andrews. One of the pressure gauges needs seeing to. When you're ready, old boy, eh?''

He clicked his tongue as though he were summoning a pet dog to his heel, and I heard his footsteps descend behind me again. Oh, that man really tested my patience!

I opened my eyes and stopped with the ridiculous pretend crying noises, as Mr. Andrews heaved a sigh of relief against me. His manhood was now completely limp, so I begrudgingly let go of it and removed my hand from his trousers. Giggling, I fastened up the two buttons I'd undone and rearranged the bottom part of his waistcoat.

''That was close, Mimi," he gasped, stepping back away from me now that it was safe to do so. He buttoned up the front of his overcoat, possibly as a precaution against overly amorous maids. ''I'm not sure if I care to be doing this again,''

I cleared my throat quite innocently, and noted that his face was rather flushed in colour.

''A little bit _too_ risky for you, Thomas?''

He took his notebook from under his arm and held it tightly, probably to give him something to do with his hands.

''I'm not used to this sort of thing, dear.'' he chuckled. ''You erm, well...you bring out a different side to me. I'm sure God is going to strike me down one of these days! I'd best get to the engine room. Good day to ye, Mimi!''

Acting every inch the professional gentleman, he straightened up his posture and marched away. Then much to my surprise, he fired me a cheeky wink over his shoulder. I folded my arms under my bosom and nodded to myself. _Thomas Andrews, you sly old dog! _What a terrible influence I'd been on this previously incorruptable gentleman. But I revelled in being the one to reduce him to a gibbering wreck. Mr. Andrews was putty in my hands, and I wondered just what else I could convince him to do with me...


	3. Back Seat L'amour

**Author's Note:** An idea semi-inspired by one of **ringosdiamond'**s art pieces, on deviantART. Also hugely inspired by Jack and Rose's car scene in _Titanic_.

Not to be taken seriously and nothing to do with any of the chapters in the main story _The Thomas Andrews Affair_. Just an excuse to write more Mimi/Thomas naughtiness.

* * *

_**Back Seat L'amour  
**_

Another shift over for the evening, another illicit enounter with Mr. Andrews. It was getting to be quite the habit, but we were both intoxicated by the power of our lust for one another. Although, my feelings were more than lust; six months of longing from afar had begun to turn into something deeper, and I felt I was connecting with him on another level. Perhaps he didn't feel the same, but I was going to find out from him soon enough. I wished for us to dock in New York as a newly fledged couple, with all thoughts of his unfaithful wife banished. But for now, these illicit encounters had to do.

We met on mutual territory on the landing of the fore Grand Staircase, where we'd agreed. As always, Mr. Andrews was dressed impeccably; navy blue pinstriped suit and waistcoat, with his pocket watch chain on show. His black leatherbound notebook was wedged firmly under his arm and he was staring ahead, probably at nothing in particular. I drifted up the stairs, towards him, still clad in my White Star Line uniform, but without that blasted serving wench's hat I so hated wearing. I knew how much Mr. Andrews liked my hair; he was always toying it and coiling his fingers through my curls. He already had his little quirky ways with me, when caught up in our intimate activities together.

Feigning wideyed innocence, I stopped in front of him as I reached the top of the stairs.

''Good evening, Mr. Andrews,'' I breezed, smiling widely up at him.

''Ah, Miss Monaghan!" he said, spinning on his heel to face me and returning the wide smile. ''Are ye ready for this evening's staff debriefing?''

He didn't seem to realise how much innuendo and double entendre were in his choice of wording. Staff debriefing, indeed! I just couldn't help giggling quietly. Stifling those giggles behind the back of my hand, I nodded my head. And all of this _Mr. Andrews_ and _Miss Monaghan_ nonsense was nothing more than professional pretence, for the sake of any gossips walking by.

''Follow me, then,'' Mr. Andrews said, keenly marching ahead as I deliberately stayed several paces behind. He took me down the stairs, and along to the far less ornate and more cinical depths of F Deck, where the mail and cargo holds were located. The bowels of the _Titanic_, as they were. I knew exactly where we were going; we'd dared each other that morning, when I'd interrupted his shaving routine in his stateroom. The cargo hold was beckoning...

Speeding along the corridor with a serious expression on his face, he led me to the aforementioned cargo hold and quickly ushered me in. The hold was full of stationary four wheeled motor vehicles, belonging to first and second class passengers. The air in the hold was rather warm and humid, being situated so close to the boiler rooms where the fires were being stoked.

''We can't be too long in here, Mimi,'' Mr. Andrews hissed, cautiously looking over his shoulders and taking my hand.

We paused for a moment, looking into each other's eyes intently. Then we both creased over, laughing in unison, because we knew our continuing behaviour was most outrageous and unspoken. Giggling like two children caught with their fingers in the biscuit barrel, we scurried along hand in hand, weaving in and out between vehicles.

''Choose the automobile of your preference, m'dear,'' Mr. Andrews insisted, sweeping his arm out and gesturing to the vast selection of vehicles around us.

Clasping my hands coyly behind my back, I nodded my head to the gleaming burgundy Renault parked next to us.

''Excellent choice, even if I do say so myself," Mr. Andrews said, a wry smile playing on his lips.

Chivalrously, he swung open the side passenger door for me, holding his other hand out to steady me. I grasped his fingers and stepped up into the vehicle, sliding myself along the warm leather of the back seat. Mr. Andrews followed me, closing the door behind him and shifting up beside me on the seat. He bent over to place his precious notebook in the foothold, then straightened up again.

''You're a very bad girl, Mimi Monaghan." he teased me, giving me a playful tap on the arm. ''These insane things ye convince me to do... ''

I pouted my lips, mockingly.

''I don't recall ye compaining earlier. Come 'ere!''

Grabbing him by the lapels of his suit jacket, I hoisted myself into his lap and straddled him. Smiling appreciatively, he removed his jacket and tossed it aside. I noted little patches of perspiration showing through the shoulders of his pale blue dress shirt, and his forehead was starting to look a tad shiny.

''Feelin' a bit hot and flustered are ye, Thomas?'' I enquired cheekily, peeling my apron straps down over my shoulders. He reached behind me to unbutton the back of my uniform dress.

''Well, it's a wee bit warm in here, but yer not helping matters," he shot back, popping open my buttons with an air of impatience. He helped me ease my arms out of my sleeves and pulled my collar right down, to expose my upper half. Beneath my dress I wore a frilly white brassiere, but I despised corsetry of any kind; I refused to wear those dreadfully restrictive things.

I returned the favour and unfastened his waistcoat all the way down, helping him to remove it. Then I loosened the knot from his tie, slid the tie free of his high-necked collar, and began to unbutton his dress shirt. He could hardly wait for me to pull that shirt open, before he leaned his face right into mine and smothered my lips with his mouth. Quite the desperate shipbuilder, indeed! My curly locks had been piled into a loose bun on top of my head, and Mr. Andrews wasted no time in whipping out my hairgrips and ruffling my fluffy curls over my shoulders. Well, that man loved such unruly hair.

Our passion for each other showed no limit as our hands were all over the place - his roamed all the way up my skirt and skimmed my thighs, while mine ran over his clammy chest and those wide shoulders of his. He pulled me forward so that my upper half was squashed into his front, and our mouths met again, our tongues entwining hungrily. By now, I was also perspiring heavily, as we devoured each other within the confines of a small motor vehicle. We were a sweating, panting, gasping mess tangled together on the back seat. He lifted my skirt up around my waist and held it there, pulling his mouth away from mine for a moment to wheeze, ''Mimi... would you unfasten my... trousers... please?''

I needed no further encouragement as I reached forward and grappled with his trouser buttons, opening the top of his pants and hauling them down over his thighs. His loose white shorts were straining, and I didn't waste time in hauling those down either. He tugged my frilly French bloomers to my knees and held me firmly by my waist, then guided me down gently on top of his rather impressive state of arousal. Mr. Andrews was never a disappointment in that department, I have no shame in telling you. He was quite the stallion! I slid myself up and down his length, moving my hips slowly one moment, quickening the pace the next. He moved his hands under my brassiere and carefully ran his fingers over the delicate skin of my, shall we say - _fuller_ -assets, making lots of little moaning noises. I grabbed at his wavy hair and gave it a good roughing up as his tongue trailed down my neck. My nails dug into his back and I scratched into his shoulder blades like an over-enthusiastic kitten. He could hardly catch his breath, and oh Lord, neither could I. I lived for these sinfully delicious moments between us. Who'd have thought that such a shy man could be so insatiable?

He bucked his body underneath me, rubbing all the most delightful places, and my toes curled upwards with immense pleasure. Goodness, we writhed around together in that little automobile, rocking the thing like nobody's business. His face contorted and he bit down on his bottom lip, stifling another moan as I bounced faster and faster on top of him. Gripping my waist as tightly as he could, he relieved himself in me with a defenceless sounding whimper. I slowed down, coming to a halt and slumping forward against him. I was panting as though I'd jogged the length and breadth of the ship! Still trying to catch his own breath, he loosened his grip on my waist and clasped his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into his sweat-beaded chest. We stayed there for a few minutes, wrapped in each other's arms, in a deep state of post coital dishevellment. I'd almost forgotten that we'd just been amorous in a car belonging to a complete stranger!

''You're a dreadful influence on me, Mimi Monaghan,'' Mr. Andrews finally managed to say, his voice low and husky. He shifted the masses of curls from my face to look down into my eyes, as I continued to nestle against his chest. Then he grinned and added, ''But I wouldn't have you any other way,"

I kissed his collarbone area before pulling his dress shirt back over him, lovingly fastening up his buttons.

''I know, Thomas. I can be very addictive, even for you. I've brainwashed you into behaving like a deviant!"

He gave a wry chuckle and shrugged his waistcoat back over his shoulders.

''I suppose God will strike us_ both_ down for this! You're a dreadful influence indeed. We'll keep this is our wee secret... and goodness, maybe we should wipe this back seat before we leave. Is there a cleaning cloth in your apron pocket? Now, where did I put my notebook... ''


	4. She's Like The Wind

**Author's Note: **Another alternate chapter, requested by a reader.

A couple of my 'The Thomas Andrews Affair' readers have wondered what would've happened, if Mr. Andrews had tried to make up for his insensitive comments about buying jewellery in New York for his estranged wife. (Chapter 14: _Baby It's Cold Outside_, of 'The Thomas Andrews Affair')

So I gave this alternative take a whirl, as requested by one of my fabulously supportive friends over on tumblr.

LOTS of Thomas Andrews fluffiness, romance and general squishiness ahead - there IS sex, but not as graphic as the previous chapters.

(Chapter title inspired by the Patrick Swayze song 'She's Like The Wind' from the film_ Dirty Dancing_.)

* * *

_**She's Like The Wind**_

There was a knock on the door, which startled me a little. Who on earth would it be, at this time of night? I'd been just about to change out of my uniform into my nightdress, and I was in no mood to be disturbed by anyone. I'd spent the last half an hour sobbing my heart out over the fool who'd built this godforsaken ship, and my frame of mind was not a good one.

Sighing heavily, I padded over to the door in my bare feet. After turning the key to unlock it, I half heartedly swung it open, expecting to see a sheepish Mr. Andrews standing before me. I was surprised to find that it wasn't him, but a fellow Irish steward from A Deck instead. I slumped my shoulders and rolled my eyes.

''What do you want at _this_ hour, Peter? My shift is over,''

Peter, the steward, handed me a folded piece of White Star headed notepaper.

''Sorry to disturb you, Mimi. This is from Mr. Andrews,'' he explained. ''He requests your presence immediately. He says the reason is clear in his note. I'm just passing on the message, lass,''

Frowning at the note in my hands, I nodded a 'thank you' to Peter, who hurried off again rather sharpish. I quickly unfolded the piece of paper and read the handwritten scrawl silently to myself.

'_Dearest_ _Mimi,_

_I understand that you may never want to see me again, but if you can afford me a chance to explain, I will be indebted to you. Please meet with me in my stateroom at 11 o'clock tonight. _

_T'_

Well, what was I supposed to think now? Was he really deserving of anything from me, after asking me to choose an item of jewellery for his _wife_? And why was I the one who had to sneak off to his stateroom, again, when he was the guilty party? Was he really so out of touch with a woman's emotions and feelings? It had certainly appeared so. I must've read his words five times before deciding what to do next. But, no matter how down I'd felt about how he'd treated me out on the deck, I made my decision. I put on my boots and made my way over to his stateroom, despite the fact that it wasn't quite eleven yet. I don't know why I was always being drawn to that man like a moth to a flame. But I was.

Standing outside of his stateroom nervously, yet still feeling angry, I knocked on the door. I heard his footsteps as he rushed to answer, and he opened the door a crack, peering out at me.

''What is it you want from me, Thomas?'' I demanded, still standing in the corridor. ''It's late and I'd like to get to bed,''

He opened the door wider, so that I could see inside the room. Oh, my goodness! His entire stateroom was filled with flickering candlelight, casting dancing shadows over the walls. There were white church candles of all sizes placed carefully in spots around the room. There were candles on his desk and candles on the floor. All the lamps in the room were switched off; the only light came from those candles. It was a beautiful sight.

''Please, um...come in, Mimi,'' Mr. Andrews said shyly, gesturing behind himself with his hand. I nodded, and he quickly ushered me in, closing the door behind me. I stood there for a moment, watching the various shadows moving on the walls and the flickering of the flames. And, if I wasn't mistaken, the delicate scent of roses hung lightly in the air.

''Thomas!'' I gasped, feeling slightly taken aback. ''Is this for my benefit?''

He seemed anxious and a little embarrassed, fidgeting and wringing his hands in front of him. I noticed him swallow hard and grind his jaw, something he did when he was feeling awkward.

''I, er - well, yes, yes,'' he stammered, then he cleared his throat and glanced over towards the bed.

I followed his eyes, catching my breath as I realised that his bed was scattered with dozens of rose petals. Well; no wonder there was a floral scent in the room! Carefully placed in the middle of all those rose petals, was a single red rose. I cannot tell you how this scene in his stateroom made me feel. I'd never had a man show me such a grandiose romantic gesture before. Goodness, men in my life had been few and far between anyway! Oh, but the candles, the single red rose and the petals covering the bed; this was the most beautiful thing any gentleman had ever done for me. I was rendered speechless.

''Mimi, if you'll let me explain,'' Mr. Andrews insisted, noting the wideyed expression on my face. ''I need to make amends for my tactless comments earlier this evening. If you'll - if you'll allow me to, of course. I've been such a fool,''

He pulled out the chair from behind his candle festooned desk, and politely gestured for me to sit down. I did so, my heart racing like a galloping horse inside my chest. I'd gone to his stateroom to give him a piece of my mind, but now things were taking a completely different turn and I knew I should give him the chance to explain his actions earlier. He paced the floor by the desk, fidgeting with his hands again.

''I realise now how hurt you were, when I said what I did before,'' he sighed, his eyes darting everywhere but me. ''I was so...well...insensitive. Expecting you to help me choose something for my wife in a jewellery store in New York, I mean, how foolish of me! Oh, why didn't you just slap me across the face?''

I glanced down at my hands in my lap and sighed.

''I wish I _had_,'' I replied honestly. ''You don't need to know the thoughts that were running through my head, but let me tell ye they weren't very nice. I'd thought you were asking me to come to New York with you so we could start a new life together, Thomas. I _thought _you'd to decided to leave your wife!''

He stopped pacing and spun on his heel to look directly at me.

''I know that now!" he said, his guilt apparent in his sad brown eyes. ''I know. I'm a fool,''

He crouched down to my level and dropped to his knees in front of me, resting both of his hands on top of the skirt on my lap.

''I'm useless with the fairer sex, Mimi. I'm a shy man, as ye know. Never short of offers, but-''

I lifted my eyebrows upon hearing his peculiar choice of wording, considering this whole scenario in his stateroom was intended to be his peace offering to me.

''_Never short of offers_, Thomas?'' I interrupted him. ''What's _that _supposed to mean? I'm not the only one throwing myself at you? I hope you haven't been-''

His cheeks flushed and he seemed a little startled.

''Oh, no no no!'' he chuckled awkwardly. ''Of course not. There's only been you on this voyage, dear. _Only _you. You have to believe me,''

I did believe him. Unless the subject of conversation was his beloved ship, Mr. Andrews was an introverted, nervous chap, no matter how many women 'threw' themselves at him. And it was true that he was a popular choice with the ladies, who seemed to be in awe of the man whenever he innocently walked by. I remembered the swooning women from steerage earlier; he had a way of engaging people, especially those of the female persuasion. I felt special, realising that I had been the object of his affections all along, and not the beautiful and Rubenesque Rose DeWitt Bukater...or anyone else, for that matter.

''How can I make it up to you, darlin'?'' Mr. Andrews continued after a moment. ''Do you - do you like the um, the candles? And the - well, the petals on the bedspread? Oh, I hope you don't think I'm being too presumptuous with laying the room out like this! I'm -"

I smiled and lifted my fingertip to his mouth, pressing it against his lips gently in an attempt to hush him up. He didn't finish his rambling, and stayed quiet.

''Not at all, Thomas. It's perfect,'' I told him, about the room. I thought for a few seconds, then carried on. ''Well, you know what you can do to make it up to me,''

His eyes were large and pleading as he knelt there in front of me, with his hands still in my lap. I traced my finger down his chin as he replied,

''I've been such an idiot, Mimi. I'll do anything. Name it!"

Indeed, I would 'name it'.

''Mrs. Andrews betrayed you, but I haven't. I wouldn't. I believe loyalty should be rewarded, Thomas. When the ship docks in New York, I want you to take me to the jewellery store, but not for _her_. I'd like an eternity ring. For _me. _For_ us_,''

Mr. Andrews nodded his head.

''Of course! Anything you want, m'dear. A ring it is. And, well, I have something nice for you here now, so bear with me...''

He removed his hands from my lap and rose to his feet, becoming a bit flustered again. He made a quick dash to the coatstand in the corner of the room, and rummaged around in the pocket of his long overcoat, before returning to me with a black leatherette gift box in his hand. The tempo of my heartbeat speeded up quite considerably, at the sight of this black box before me! He gently took my hand and gestured for me to stand, so I did.

''I felt dreadful, after what happened between us earlier. So I had a wee negotiation, with an acquaintance onboard,'' he explained, his eyes settling on mine. ''I, um, I hope this is satisfactory for you...''

His nerves seemed to be getting the better of him as he cleared his throat and flipped open the box to show me. Oh, bless his heart. Staring back at me was a nine carat gold necklace, with a diamond and emerald Claddagh pendant attached. The Claddagh design depicts two hands clasping a heart, surmounted by a crown; an Irish symbol of love, friendship and loyalty. I have no idea, to this day, what he'd 'negotiated', but I can imagine that this piece of jewellery would've been rather expensive in monetary value.

''Thomas!'' I gasped, having melted instantly at the sight of the necklace. ''It's wonderful,''

Mr. Andrews seemed more at ease now, as he carefully took the jewel from the box and stood behind me.

''I trust you're familiar with the symbolism of the Claddagh,'' he said, unclipping the back of the necklace and placing the pendant around my neck. It took him a moment to fasten it; his broad fingers clearly weren't made for securing fidgety clasps on women's jewellery!

''Yes,'' I answered him, instinctively reaching to the pendant and touching it with my fingertips. ''Friendship, loyalty...and love,''

I leaned my back against him and closed my eyes, and I felt his arms move around my waist to embrace me from behind.

''I want you to know that I'll never take your feelings for granted again,'' he sighed. ''I must stop clinging to the thought that Mrs. Andrews and I will be reuinted. I need to move on, and...''

He nuzzled the top of my head, burying his nose into my hair.

''...you're the one I shall be moving on with. I'll protect you, Mimi. If you'll allow me to,''

I smiled, still leaning back into him, and still with my eyes closed.

''Of course I will. This is all I ever wanted from you, Thomas. No more heartache, no more nonsense. You must promise me!"

He tightened his forearms around my waist.

''I promise you, darlin',''

We stood together, silently, for what must've been a couple of minutes, when Mr. Andrews finally loosened his grip on my middle, and shyly nodded his head toward the bed.

''I, er...I would be honoured if you...stayed the night with me tonight.''

My ears pricked up at his words. It was certainly a somewhat forward invitation, and because we were not married, 'staying the night' was usually seen as a forbidden pleasure for unmarried couples. Whilst his invite was very, very tempting, I did wonder if all this scene-setting and his purchase of lovely jewellery, was little more than his way of persuading me to provide him with sexual relations. I turned to face him, planting my hands on my hips and arching an eyebrow suspiciously.

''Thomas, I do wonder...all this attention you've lavished on me since I got here...is this a ploy for you to have your pleasure with me tonight?''

Mr. Andrews became a little flustered again, and his embarrassment could be seen on his face.

''What? No! No, don't be silly, Mimi! You've got it wrong, honest to God.''

Rolling my eyes and holding my nose in the air like a spoiled child, I tutted under my breath and marched toward the king-sized bed, pointing to the rose petals scattered all over the bedspread.

''No gentleman would cover his bed with petals if he didn't expect it to see some..._use_,''

Mr. Andrews seemed confused at my sudden questioning of his motives. Sighing heavily with frustration, he lifted his hand to his forehead and rubbed his temple.

''I-I don't know what you want me to...''

Poor Mr. Andrews, the love of my life. What he didn't realise was that I was now playing with him, to get a reaction. I wasn't being serious, but I reckoned that he deserved to stew a little before getting what he wanted; what we _both_ wanted.

''...I'm not using you, sweetheart, I promise you,'' he insisted, his eyes pleading with me. ''I want us to be together tonight because we _should_ be,''

I stayed silent, watching our shadows dancing on the wall behind the bed.

''_Please, _Mimi,'' Mr. Andrews sighed.

I smiled slyly, and shook my head.

He took my hand in his.

''_Please_.''

I pulled my hand away.

''Well, I'm not sure.''

Again, he took my hand. And again, I pulled it away. I then walked over to the other side of the room, my back turned to him. He followed me, and I moved several steps to my left.

''Oh, don't do this,'' he pleaded, his dark eyes wide and puppylike, ''I know you want this too,''

''You really think so?'' I pretended to mock.

''Yes, really!" he shot back.

"Well Thomas, maybe I don't."

''And I don't believe you.''

Tugging at my hand for the third time, he lifted it to his lips and kissed it softly. A grin crept over my face, but I snatched my hand away again and lifted my nose in the air as I had done before.

''Ask me nicely,'' I teased him, with a serious face.

''Very well, then. Would you be so kind, as to allow me to be with you tonight, Mimi?''

I made it appear as though I was thinking about it for a moment. I wasn't, really. I was simply playing hard to get.

"Well - _no_.''

''Oh, stop this now!"

''Only if you play by the rules, Thomas. The rules of seduction_._''

''Um...well, I rather thought I had that side of things covered, Mimi. The rose petals, the candles. The necklace!''

I was really toying with him now - just one more time, to make him realise how lucky he was that I'd forgiven his idiocy from earlier this evening.

''Thomas, I want you to beg for it.''

He raised his eyebrows high on his forehead.

''WHAT?''

''No begging, means no pleasures of the flesh.''

Yes, Mr. Andrews' face was a picture of panic. I was secretly relishing this. But he deserved it, before I gave him his prize. And I would reward him, no doubt about that.

''Wh-what do you want me to do?'' he stammered, wringing his hands nervously in front of him.

''Well, I would rather like you to get on your knees.''

''_What_? Oh now, Mimi, that's absurd.''

''Thomas, you're desperate for sexual relations. But I'm not sure if I've forgiven you yet.''

''Oh. come on, dear. This is ridiculous. I've apologised!''

''Well, if _Mr. Andrews_ wants the pleasures of the female body, then_ Mr. Andrews_ must get on his knees.''

Teasing him was fun, and such a good way to get my own back on his earlier blunder. Mr. Andrews was not so sure, though. I thought he was going to blow a fuse, the poor man.

''I-I won't do that! Is this what I've been reduced to? Mimi, I built this bloody ship! Why should I be on my knees, begging on the oak floors I designed with my own fair hands? I've tried to make amends for what I've done. Don't ridicule me, for pity's sake!''

''I'm not ridiculing you. I'm just putting you in your place. What's it to be, Mr. Shipbuilder?''

Mr. Andrews was speechless and flustered again. I sat down primly on the edge of the bed and smoothed my apron out over my lap, remaining quite serious. I noted him rolling his eyes to the ceiling and shaking his head, as he dropped to his knees directly in front of me and placed both of his hands on my thighs, on top of my apron. His eyes appeared huge and pleading.

''Please allow me to be with you tonight,'' he murmured softly, reaching behind me and picking up the single red rose from the bed. He offered it to me, his eyes searching my face. I didn't respond, and sat almost completely motionless, but it was all quite deliberate. I wanted him more than anything else. My heart was pounding in my chest for that man. The rose stem was an unbelievably sweet gesture, but I wanted to keep up the pretence for just a little bit longer.

Noting my lack of any kind of response to him, he dropped the rose to the floor and inched himself forward a little more, still kneeling in front of me. He leaned his face in close to mine, and nudged his cheek against my lips. I couldn't help but let out the tiniest, breathiest gasp. I closed my eyes and tilted my head up, encouraging him. I felt him rain gentle kisses in quick succession, down my throat and to my collarbone, and I slid my arms around his wide shoulders. I couldn't keep up with this playing-hard-to-get nonsense. It was futile, considering I craved him as much as he craved me. I gave in much quicker than I thought I would.

We were both still fully clothed; me in my White Star uniform and him in his shirt and tie, waistcoat and trousers. Even my ankle boots, and his shoes. I laid on my back on the bed, surrounded by soft, scented flower petals. He positioned himself on top of me, being careful to take his weight on his elbows. He was so much bigger than me, not just in height, but broad and wide shouldered in stature. The sexual relations we'd had before were three quick romps on a table. Well alright, if you wish for semantics; the first had been on the desk in his cabin, the second had been on the dining table in the crewmen's eating quarters, and the third had been in the linen cupboard on a pile of sheets. All three escapades had been quite delicious, thank you! But there was something quite different to what we were doing now; something much more intimate. For the first time around him, I'd actually felt slightly vulnerable with his presence. But not in a bad way; I liked it. I was used to being the initiator, and now I wished for him to lead the way. I wanted to feel protected by this big, cuddly bear of a man.

Neither of us said a word to the other, but our eyes spoke volumes. He began to kiss me on the mouth, softly at first, then much more deeply. As he did that, I felt one of his hands travel down my body, on top of my clothes, until he got to the hem of my skirt where his hand ventured underneath. I hadn't expected him to do what he did next; the details of which, I will not divulge too much of! But let me just say, those long fingers of his certainly knew exactly what they were doing, and I saw a thousand stars within moments of his touch. Shipbuilder's hands always paid attention to the finer details, after all.

''I'm so sorry that I've been a fool the past few days,'' he breathed, as I began to unbutton his waistcoat. ''What a lovely young lady ye are. But I fear you're out of my league. Maybe I'm not good enough for you, Mimi,''

I pulled the waistcoat down over his shoulders and loosened off the knot in his tie, sliding the tie from his neck and tossing it to the floor before undoing the buttons on his shirt. The flickering candlelight in the room gave his face a soft, yellow glow.

''Oh, stop it,'' I said, blushing a little at his words. ''Why do ye think I can't let you go? Mind you, I _do_ have the patience of a saint,"

He chuckled quietly, taking my hand and slipping it under the gaping fabric of his open shirt. His skin felt soft and warm, and comforting.

''Ye certainly do, but you're still out of my league, lass.''

I smiled, and guided his hands to help me take off my apron. Removing the rest of my uniform would've been too fiddly and time consuming, with all the buttons at the back and the high neckline, so the apron sufficed for now. After that, I hitched my dress up and he battled with the buttons of his trousers, and yes. Yes, we gave in to each other completely. Still partially clothed, I might add. But this time was even more special, than our other times sitting upright on tables and desks and piles of linen. The vibration of his pounding heartbeat was noticeable, even through my uniform. He may have been on top of me this time, but I was not completely submissive to him, either. He was clearly trying his best to please me, and he was not being selfish. His movements were sensual and he took his time, slowly. For a man whose wife hadn't been with him sexually for months, he had a surprising amount of self control. I was not complaining in the slightest, though. He was so attentive; so wonderful. This wasn't just our usual quick lust filled encounter; we looked each other in the eye for the whole duration. We were actually making love. The meeting of our minds, and the meeting of our souls; I had never experienced anything like it before. The man who'd fathered my daughter nine years ago had been nothing more than a couple of quick fumbles in a darkened sitting room. Thomas Andrews was an exquisite, classy, sophisticated man on a completely different level. We had connected. We had bonded. There was something there, beyond the lust. He was now mine, and I was now his. Neither of us had to say it, to know that it was the truth. And for the very first time, we reached our peak of excitement together, shuddering in unison as waves of pleasure washed over us both. We were exhausted, but happy.

Afterward, we stayed on the bed, on top of the bedcovers; quietly reflecting on everything that had been happening between us. I propped myself up onto my elbows to be more comfortable, and I casually rested the back of my head against the headboard. Mr. Andrews appeared drowsy and relaxed, lying on his back across the bed with his shirt still undone. He snuggled his head into my lap and stretched out in front of me, one leg bent at the knee casually and his arms folded over his middle. I smiled to myself, and began to brush my fingers through the waves of his greying hair. He could no longer keep his eyes open, and appeared to be drifting off to sleep on my lap. I continued to stroke his hair and whispered,

''I love you, Thomas.''

I knew he probably wouldn't hear me, but it didn't really matter. I needed to say it anyway.

The candles were still burning, though I noticed that some of them were now fighting to stay alight. And apart from the continuous low rumble of the ship's engines, there was complete silence in the room. Feeling somewhat drowsy with contentment myself, I allowed my own eyes to close for a while.

My time that night, with Mr. Andrews, had been nothing short of absolute bliss. He'd certainly made up for his terrible blunder from earlier; the romantic scene in the room, the beautiful necklace, the physical bonding between us. And for almost an hour, he'd barely uttered a word about his beloved ship or his estranged wife, nor had he jotted anything down in his notebook. Most unusual, for him. Yes, he'd deserved his reward for keeping thoughts of _Titanic_ and Mrs. Andrews out of our intimate moments together. He seemed to appreciate me a lot more now, which was all I'd asked for to begin with. Though I did wonder, if he would ever admit to himself that he might've fallen in love with me, the way I had done with him.


	5. Bathtime Frolics

_**Author's Note**: _This chapter is just for fun and is based on another reader suggestion. I'm not happy with how it turned out, but hey.

I have it on good authority that there was only one bathroom for staff use onboard the _Titanic_. I imagine the staff must've had some sort of rota system to use the bathroom, but don't quote me on that.

* * *

_**Bathtime Frolics**_

_This is my time to unwind_, I thought, as I sunk into the warm water of the bathtub and closed my eyes. I'd let down my unruly curls and the ends of my hair became wet and springy, sticking to my shoulders. The water was deep enough to cover most of my body, and I tipped my head back, resting it on the edge. I had peace and quiet at last, and a chance to wash away that day's hard work. Goodness knows I needed the warmth of that water, to ease my aching back. I must've made ten queen-sized beds that day, as well as fulfilled the more fiddly cleaning duties. I was tired and I'm sure there must've been knots in my shoulders.

Just when I thought I couldn't be disturbed, I heard someone tap on the door. How irritating.

''This bathroom is occupied!" I called out, annoyed that my personal bathtime had been interrupted by an impatient member of staff.

''Um, Mimi, it's me...Thomas,'' a soft, shy male voice behind the door replied.

Immediately I opened my eyes and shifted a little in the water.

''Thomas, what are you doing out _there_? I'm having a bath! Whatever it is, can't it wait?''

There was a slight pause before he answered, again sounding rather shy.

''Not really. Would you mind if I come in?''

I raised my eyebrows with surprise, but I was smiling to myself.

''I told you, I'm in the bath. A man shouldn't see such things.''

''I-I promise you, I will avert my eyes,'' Mr. Andrews said.

Persistent bugger that he was! I wondered what on earth was so pressing that he wanted to interrupt a lady having a peaceful soak.

''Alright, well this had better be important,'' I called back, standing up from the bath to unlock the door. I didn't need to get out, thankfully. The door itself was sufficiently within reach. I sat down again, the water sloshing around me, just as Mr. Andrews came into the steam filled room. Dressed as he had been earlier in the day in a navy pinstriped suit, waistcoat and wingtip collar shirt and tie, he was also clutching that damned black notebook of his. Again. And as promised, he didn't look at me at all; his eyes were fixed completely on the white tiled wall above me.

''I do apologise for disturbing you, Mimi,'' he said, opening his notebook and pulling his pen from his top blazer pocket.

I knew that my naked form could be seen quite vividly beneath the clear water. This was quite the risque situation indeed!

''So, where's the fire?'' I enquired jokingly.

Mr. Andrews peered at the tiles above my head and scribbled something down on a page of his notebook.

''A couple of these tiles are a bit chipped, and the grout isn't as thinly applied as it should be,'' he tutted, his face contorted into a look of concentration. ''I'll need a word with the decorator. This will never do,''

I crossed my eyebrows and shook my head. _Tiles_? He'd come in here, while I was in the bath, to fuss over the bloody _tiles on the wall_? I reached for my washcloth and dunked it in the water until it was sodden. I was about ready to throw it at him.

''Thomas,'' I breathed, trying to keep a level head with him, ''Are you telling me _this_ is the emergency?''

He finished writing and snapped his notebook shut.

''If I hadn't noted this down now, I would've forgotten,'' he said, putting the pen back in his pocket.

The wet washcloth was scrunched up in my hand.

''You're _impossible_,'' I sighed, rolling my eyes. ''But...I get the feeling that the tiles are not why you're really here,''

''Of course they are!" he scoffed, continuing to avert his eyes away from me.

Flirtatiously, I lifted a bare leg out of the water and pointed my toes as I ran my washcloth down the length of my leg. Mr. Andrews turned his back to me and cleared his throat.

''I'll er, I'll just leave now. Thank you for your patience with this matter.''

Grinning from ear to ear, I stood up from the water again and barked out, ''No! I don't want you going anywhere just yet,''

Mr. Andrews ignored me and walked to the door, then stopped. He peeked at me through the corner of his eye, gasped and fixed his eyes on the door straight ahead of him.

''Is the sight of a wet, naked woman too much for you, Thomas?'' I teased, putting my hands on my bare hips. Droplets of water glistened all over my skin, and my womanly upper assets were pert and standing to attention with the cooler air.

Mr. Andrews took another sneaky peek.

''You're doing this deliberately, Mimi.''

There was no denying it!

''I am now.''

He shook his head and turned to look right at me. His shoulders relaxed and he actually smiled, grinding his jaw forward a little.

''It's been a long time since I've seen the..._female form_...in _this_ way.''

I translated that to mean,_ Mrs. Andrews rarely permitted me to see her au naturale and I'm slightly in awe of your naked beauty, Mimi._

I tilted my chin down, almost defiantly, looking upwards at him through my eyelashes.

''Give in to how you really feel, Thomas. I know you want to.''

He shifted from foot to foot, seeming apprehensive.

''That wouldn't be very professional of me, now, would it?''

I giggled wryly.

''You say that every time. We're long past being professional with each other, Thomas.''

Mr. Andrews nodded his head and held my gaze as he walked towards me. He tossed his notebook to the floor and stood directly in front of me; as I was still standing in the bath with the water up to my calves, I was much nearer to his height than I usually was. It would be easier to kiss him this way, so I tugged him closer to me by his tie and planted my lips on his. He groaned quietly and wrapped his arms around my bare shoulders, drawing me to him. I squashed my naked bosom into his waistcoat and slipped my hands under his blazer, resting them on the small of his back. Breaking our kiss for a moment, I looked deeply into those brown eyes of his.

''You know, Thomas...I'm feeling rather chilly, standing here. Why don't you join me in the water?''

He raised an eyebrow and chuckled nervously.

''I'm not sure if there will be enough room for two in there!"

''Well, let's have fun finding out, shall we?'' I retorted, sliding his blazer from his shoulders and throwing it to the floor. He didn't whine or complain as I'd thought he would, and he let me unbutton his waistcoat and shirt while he did the rest.

''Aren't _you_ being the daring one," I teased him, as he unfastened his trousers.

''I must be insane. This is what you do to me, young lady,'' he replied, removing the last items of clothing from his tall, broad frame. The man was unmistakably in a state of arousal, which of course I had expected. He climbed into the bathwater with me, again without complaining, and sat down first, taking my hand and pulling me down after him. We were both stark naked together in that bathtub, the warm water splashing around us, flowing over the edge. There was just about enough room for the two of us, but it was a tight squeeze! I straddled his bare thighs in the water and didn't even wait to take advantage of his, well, rather _obvious_ excitement. We both gasped at the same time as I pushed my hips down over the length of him, and his hands gravitated to my waist to steady me. His eyes were wide and he seemed in awe of my pale, freckled skin, completely exposed to him. Slowly, I began to grind my hips up and down, and every movement sent water splashing over the edge to the floor.

''I was only supposed to be inspecting the tiles,'' he breathed, a hint of a smile on his face. ''I didn't expect we'd end up doing this,''

_Oh Thomas, you're such a liar!_

I ran my hand over the hairs on his chest and made sure he could feel the tips of my nails across his skin.

''I find that hard to believe, Thomas...you knew I was in here.''

''I did,'' he admitted rather sheepishly, watching my nude form rising and falling on top of him. ''I had to see you again,''

Keeping a steady rhythm with my hips, I leaned forward and kissed his neck, making sure I gave him a little nip with my teeth as I did so. He drew in a quick, gasping breath and dug his nails into the soft flesh of my waist.

''You'll never be able to stay away from me on this voyage,'' I said in a low, seductive voice. ''You'll always find an excuse to meet up with me, and we'll keep on having this affair. It won't be long till other people find out what we're doing, Thomas,''

He moved both of his hands from my waist up to my naked bosom, brushing his fingertips over my feminine assets and running his thumbs over their voluptuous shape.

''It's a risk I'm willing to take.''

Smiling at his words, I picked up the pace beneath him. We pawed at each other's wet, naked flesh as we writhed around together in the water. Mr. Andrews, usually such a shy man, couldn't get enough of me and his confidence as a lover was certainly improving. It was clear that I was bringing out his slightly wilder side, sexually speaking. I couldn't imagine him having sexual relations with his wife in a bathtub full of water! I'd got the feeling that intimacy with her had been nothing more than five minutes before bedtime; lights off, man on top, then sleep. I was giving him something else - something very different. I always did. I was quite the daring one in our illicit relationship. My aim was to please him and have him begging for more. I wanted to make him dependent on me, sexually. But most importantly, I wanted him to depend on me emotionally; it was all part of my plan to steal his heart. We were a panting, gasping entanglement of hands and limbs in that bathtub. Water continued to splash over the sides as I released first, and then it was his turn. I always loved to watch his face contort as he got to his point of no return; it pleased me greatly that I had that sort of effect on him.

We relaxed together in the water, basking in our usual post-coital afterglow. I moved position to face away from him, resting my back against his chest and my head on his shoulder. He slipped his arms around my waist and held me close, nuzzling his nose into my damp curls. We were quiet and pensive, resting in the bath with each other. This hadn't been how I'd expected the evening to turn out, but I was glad that it did. Every intimate moment together, would surely mean that he'd find it harder each time to say no to me. I _never_ wanted him to refuse me; I wanted him to need me, and to fall in love with me the way that I was falling in love with him. If I had to hand him sex on a plate every time, that was exactly what I would do. And I certainly wasn't complaining about it!

Being wrapped up in each other's arms in the water, late at night, had lulled us both to sleep. I woke up with a start when there was a loud knocking at the door.

''Come on now, Mimi, you've been in there too long!" one of my female colleagues was bawling at me.

I sat up straight, waking Mr. Andrews as I did so. The water was tepid now, so we must've dozed off for longer than I'd realised. Rubbing my tired eyes and feeling a little panicky, I reached over the edge of the bath for my towel. Nobody knew I had company in this bathroom - and certainly not male company of the shipbuilder variety! Gossip would spread like wildfire...

''I'll be out in five minutes!" I shouted, stepping out from the bath and towel drying myself at quite a speed. I didn't need to dress in my daytime clothes; I had my nightdress, bathrobe and slippers with me.

There was a scramble for Mr. Andrews to get out of the bath, and as we only had one towel between us, we shared it. With neither of us able to say a word, we communicated using our eyes instead, as he grabbed his clothes and put them all back on. He was in such a flap, and so was I! I pulled the plug from the bath to drain the water, and Mr. Andrews picked up his notebook from the floor. Trying to act as innocently as possible, he followed me to the door as I let my colleague in. She was a stewardess, clad in only a bathrobe and slippers herself, and her jaw dropped as she saw me exit the bathroom with the shipbuilder in tow.

''_Mr. Andrews_?'' she gasped, looking from him to me, and back again.

''The tiles!" Mr. Andrews said hastily, holding up his notebook for her to see. ''Mimi alerted me to a problem with the tiles. I was taking notes.''

My colleague squinted her eyes at us suspiciously, tutted and closed the door behind her.

''_A risk you're willing to take_?'' I hissed at Mr. Andrews, repeating the very line he'd said to me earlier.

''I know, I know,'' he sighed, kissing my forehead. ''I'll see you tomorrow, my dear. But thank you for another..._exhilirating_...evening.''


	6. Tears Of An Angel

_**Author's Note:**_ In chapter 23 'A Guardian Angel: Part II' of the main story, Mimi and Mr. Andrews have a passionate clinch on the couch in the smoking room, before he dies and _Titanic_ sinks. Mimi says, in her narrative:** "I'm sure we would've done more than exchange emotionally charged kisses, if we'd had more time." **

The way I'd originally written the 'Guardian Angel' chapters, included them doing exactly that. But to keep within the T rating, I removed that scene. So, I've decided to post it here - rewritten from the male POV of Thomas Andrews instead. This is an alternate take, which slots in around the time they have their steamy kiss on the couch; the 'extended version', as told by Mr. Andrews. It's sad sex, rather than raunchy sex.

(Chapter title and song lyrics borrowed from _Tears Of An Angel_ by RyanDan).

* * *

_**Tears Of An Angel  
**_

___(A Guardian Angel Part II: alternative angle/Andrews POV)_

_"Cover my ears, cover my eyes_

_Tell me these words are a lie,_

_It can't be true, that I'm losing you_

_The sun cannot fall from the sky"_

_**...**  
_

Mimi's fingers grappled with the buttons on my trousers, and I gasped with astonishment. My goodness, was she out of her mind? Yes, we'd just shared an emotionally charged kiss and our hands had been all over each other, but anything more would be madness. The ship was bloody sinking!

"Mimi, what're ye-?"

Her hands were shaking, but she went for the buttons regardless.

"I just - I..." she stammered, popping them all open in succession.

Oh, she _knew_ it was absolute madness; _Titanic_ would be underwater in about half an hour, and Mimi would have to start making her escape as soon as possible. Preferably, she would've been gone well before now! Tears were streaming down her face, but she was adamant in what she wanted first. Yes, it was madness, I tell you.

"No! No, no..." I panicked, my breaths escaping in uneven bursts. "We can't! This is wrong. You must get to that boat _now_!"

Gripping the lapels of my overcoat, Mimi pulled me down with her onto the couch. Now I was hovering over her, kneeling between her legs, with the bulkiness of her lifebelt preventing us from getting much closer. My overcoat fell open and enveloped her, keeping her cocooned under me. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked into her eyes.

_Oh, you silly girl...have you taken leave of your senses?_

She was beautiful, for God's sake. Everything about her, was beautiful. Those enchanting green eyes were burning a hole right through to my soul. My face crumpled as we watched each other closely, unable to ignore the pained creaking of the ship's structure around us. Mimi was panting heavily; I'm sure it was a mixture of anxiety, fear and grief, more than anything else.

"I'm losing you, Thomas," she whispered, through her ragged gasps. Another tear rolled down her cheek, dripping onto the cushion beneath her head. "This is our goodbye...oh, God, I need this. I'll never see you again. I don't know what else to do right now! I'll go to the boat, when we've said goodbye. I need you in me, one more time...a real goodbye, Thomas..."

My heart was pounding and I wasn't feeling too clever, really. This was the place where I'd decided to die; to take my fate like a gentleman. And it would surely be happening soon enough. I was petrified, but I didn't want Mimi to see just how much. I looked over my shoulder at the clock on the mantlepiece; it was a quarter to two. By my own calculations, there wouldn't much time left before the ship went down. Mimi needed to get herself to a lifeboat, which I'd told her to do twenty times already. Stubborn young lady, so she was. But I knew what she'd meant by "a real goodbye". Not just tearful hugs and kisses, but much more than that.

_Risking it all for me...oh, Mimi, why? I'm just a man. _

Turning my attention back to her and keeping my eyes on hers, I lifted her White Star Line uniform up, over her thighs. She was not the only one who'd taken leave of her senses; clearly, I had too. But she needed to feel that connection with me, one last time. And now I understood why. My goodness, I did. She'd filled that void my wife had left behind, when my marriage had fallen apart. Mimi was madly infatuated with me; head over heels in love, she'd kept telling me. And I knew why she was behaving this way now, even as _Titanic_ was dying around us. I knew what we had to do; we had to say goodbye, with the final meeting of our bodies and our minds. Having sexual relations when a ship is sinking is generally not advisable to anyone, but we felt our reasons were valid enough. As long as Mimi could make it out of there, alive...

"We have to be quick," I told her, tugging her undergarments down. She pressed both of her hands against my naked behind.

"I know, I know..."

Wrapping her legs around me from underneath, she drew me in close and freed the thobbing part of my anatomy from my trousers. Despite the perilous situation we were in, even just the sensation of her fingers wrapped around it, had been enough to bring it to life. She guided me into her with ease, and oh, heavens alive! We were both feeling the cold on the outside, but she was wonderful and warm on the inside. At first, I moved slowly on top of her, and she moaned softly. So much for being quick, as I'd told her we should be.

Her lifebelt got in the way of our intimacy; an annoyance to us both, so I hastily untied the cords and pulled it off over her head, tossing it to one side.

"You must put it back on when we're finished," I reminded her, unbuttoning her coat and sliding my hands beneath her shawl. I gently kissed the side of her neck, and she gave a little whimper.

"Thomas...please change your mind and come with me to the boat..."

I nuzzled my face against hers.

"Darling, you know I have to stay here. Let's not keep going over this."

She pushed her hips upwards, as I bore down into her. Then she reached for one of my hands and flexed her fingers through mine, above her head. Her curly hair was messy and hanging out of her hairpins, giving her a tousled, windswept look. I toyed with a few of her curls, winding them around my fingers. I could never resist Mimi's hair, especially during intimate moments. It seemed to be a ritual of mine.

"I love you," she whispered, as more tears trickled down the apples of her cheeks. Tears for me; tears for the horror of the situation; and tears for the end of us.

"Sssh..." I soothed, moving my other hand over the peachy, velvet skin of her thighs. She was precious, and so was the tiny new life we believed was already growing inside her. Both of them, so very precious.

_Titanic_ gave a horrible, metallic-sounding screeching noise, which seemed to be coming from somewhere above our heads.

_Oh, Titanic, just leave us be. I'll be with you soon enough. Let me say goodbye to the woman carrying my child!_

An empty whiskey glass slid from the mantle and dropped to the floor, smashing on the stone hearth. Startled, we both jumped and looked over to the fireplace for a moment, before turning our attention back to each other. Mimi let go of my hand and unbuttoned my waistcoat quickly, then my shirt. She dug her nails into the flesh of my chest, before running the pads of her fingertips down my stomach. My goodness! I was rather ticklish, so I couldn't help but smile and give a quiet chuckle.

But my ticklishness soon faded, and my smile turned to tears. I had no control over all this damned crying; I'd be knocking on heaven's door in no time, and I was mourning the end of my life. Mourning the death of my beautiful ship. Mourning the fact that I would never see my daughter again. Mourning my brief, but exhilirating, relationship with Mimi. And I'd never see the child that was growing in her belly. All this mental anguish, and this upset, was so great, that I started to experience pains in the left side of my chest. It must've been the stress of everything, affecting my health. My shoulder was now aching, as well. But I carried on making love with Mimi, regardless. I had to. I wanted to. I needed to. Just for a few minutes, we were as one.

A sob caught in my throat and a warm tear trickled down my nose, splashing onto Mimi's cheek and mixing with her own tears. Something else dropped from the mantle and smashed on the hearth, but neither of us saw what it was. The floor was tilting a little further now, so I knew we had to finish what we were doing; time was running out for my dear Mimi's safety. I slipped my free hand between her legs and used my thumb to help her along, with me still deep inside her. She writhed her hips and ground them against my hand, creating a wonderful friction for me in that warm place of hers.

_Oh, dearest Mimi; you'll never really know how you made me feel in our final moments together_.

She arched her back and moaned, clutching my waist firmly as she climaxed. Now it was my turn; and goodness! I speeded up like a madman, only because I had to. We were aware of more objects crashing to the floor, this time from the other side of the room, as I pounded my hips harder and faster against her. And more tears rolled down my face, with the emotion of it all becoming too much. We held eye contact as I released myself in her for the very last time; I'd hoped that there would be enough for her to remember me by, for at least the next day or so. Panting and sweating, I slowed to a halt and removed myself from her warmth. Knowing that time was of the essence, she pulled her uniform down over her legs again and adjusted her undergarments. Sitting up straight, I drew her onto my lap again, wrapping my arms around her. We held each other closely, and we wept together.

"Thank you," she whispered between short, breathy sobs. "Never forget, how much I love you. Thank you for everything, Thomas."

Looking over to the clock on the mantle again, I broke off our embrace, feeling much sorrow. I wished I could've sat there, holding her, until the inevitable happened; but I simply couldn't do that. She had to live, and I couldn't prolong her need to get to that lifeboat. Really, she should already have been on it by now. Our overwhelming passion had interfered with that, but she didn't seem to regret it. And I must say, neither did I - far from it. I kissed her forehead, and we both began buttoning up the rest of our garments.

"There's no need to say that, my sweetheart," I told her, standing up from the couch first. I wiped my tear streaked face on the sleeve of my coat. "It should be the other way round. I'm grateful to you for loving me...I haven't always been the most understanding man, but you've been there for me. Thank you, Mimi. Thank you for being my guardian angel."

As she got up from the couch, I picked up her discarded lifebelt from where I'd tossed it, and slipped it on over her head again. She gave a gentle smile, and kissed my cheek. For a moment, we both stood pensively in front of the fireplace, watching the embers of the fire still burning. I raised my head slowly, and my gaze settled on the painting of Plymouth Harbour above the clock.

"You really must go to the boat now, Mimi."

I couldn't look at her; it was too distressing. Her sobs were difficult to listen to. I could still taste this woman on my lips, and the soft, floral smell of her perfume was already ingrained in the fabric of my overcoat. The intoxicating scent of her femininity was all over my fingertips. No wonder I'd caved in to sexual relations with her, while my own creation proceeded to rip our lives apart. It had turned out that Mimi was the only one I could really depend on. _A true guardian angel._ Despite the tempestuous nature of our relationship, she was loyal till the end. I was happy that I'd spent my last half hour on this earth, with somebody as special as Mimi. _My_ Mimi.

_It's time for us to part now, my guardian angel. And I do love you, darling. I just wish I could be brave enough to tell you. _


End file.
